


Cock it and Pull it Out

by hecamefromouterspace



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Gunplay, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hecamefromouterspace/pseuds/hecamefromouterspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Repost from the <a href="http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/6099.html?thread=15830995#t15830995">Fallout Kink Meme</a></p><p>Nate tries to teach Nora how to shoot. Instead, he teaches her something about her kinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cock it and Pull it Out

Nora squints, lining up the rear sight with the dot on the target in front of her, sweat dripping from her brow. She’s never been good with hot weather, and the heat, although not unbearable outside, is almost sweltering under the metal of the range shelter. Taking a glance sideways-a glance she knows is probably a bad idea and will throw her off-her husband gives her a brief nod, corners of his mouth curling up into a small smile. 

Turning back, she takes a deep breath. Several, in fact, the stale air filling her lungs as she tries to line up the front, briefly wishing the gun wasn’t metal. It’s too cold, and the air is too hot, and together it’s too distracting. She can almost hear her own heartbeat as she squeezes the trigger gently. 

The recoil isn’t as strong this time. Or maybe it is, but she made sure her wrists and grip were stronger. It doesn’t stop, of course; her shoulders have jerked back, and it burns like hell. But it’s a good burn, a burn that makes something in her fingers twitch and her head buzz.

And it’s even better because she can see that the paper target has a hole in it. Right in the middle of the forehead. 

She turns to her husband, to see what his reaction is. Nate pauses, and Nora can see his eyes lose focus, turn back into that thousand-yard stare she doesn’t want or care to ask about. 

“You’re getting better”, he manages, finally. Her heart sinks.

“I thought that was good”, she murmurs.

“It’s not bad”, he starts, something in his voice making Nora squirm, “but headshots aren’t worth it. Aim for the centre mass. If you miss the torso, you’ll still hit something. Miss the head, you’ll get nothing. A dead target is a dead target, doesn’t matter where the bullets go.”

She doesn’t speak for a moment, the silence between them broken by the sound of the radio playing in the backroom, muffled as it was by the earmuff-esque things Nate had insisted upon. She’d thought it was a stupid idea; if it came down to it, and she had to shoot somebody, she probably wouldn’t have time to put on the fuzzy monstrosity. But he pleaded with her, eyes just puppy-dog enough for her to be unable to refuse. 

Nate must have seen her expression change, because he immediately looks apologetic, like he’s accidentally burnt their anniversary dinner, or cut their geraniums a bit too short. He sighs, and takes a step closer to her.

“Here, let me show you.”

Sometimes Nora forgets that Nate has killed people, because he’s so gentle, fingers brushing against hers, like he’s constantly asking permission to touch her. One hand wraps around hers, holding the grip with her. Their fingers tangle as he steps behind her, and she can feel her skin flush, the pulse she can feel in her fingers quicken.  
“Line up the rear sight with the circle on his chest.” His voice is low, almost a growl into her ear, as he places his second hand against hers, guiding her. She does as he says, even as her hands tremble slightly. 

“Slightly lower.”

Nora bites her lip as she does so. 

“That’s good. Now you need to adjust the front sight.”

He coaxes her hand downwards slightly. “Right there, right like that.”

“I can’t reach the thumb safety with your hands like that.”

“That’s okay. I’ll do that. You get the grip safety”, he grunts as she moves under him, “remember, strong shoulders, strong arms. You’re never gonna be able to get rid of the kickback, but you can minimise it.”

Nora nods, all too aware of how her skin is growing hot beneath his touch.

“You ready?”

“Yep.”

She squeezes the trigger, but they both take the shot. After the initial daze is over, Nora squirms, desperate to see where they’ve hit. Before she can see, however, her husband answers the question for her. 

“We did good. We did really good.”

He gives a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to her cheek, his stubble rough against her skin. “We make a good team.”

She smiles back. “Yeah. We do.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So, what do you wanna do next?”

Nora knows exactly what she wants. But, despite a cursory glance around the building making Nora sure they were the only ones around, jumping her husband at a public gun range is still something that takes time to decide on. In fact, it takes until Nate is almost done packing away the guns they’ve borrowed for her to make a move. 

She kisses him first, pressing against his rough lips as she tilts her head to the side, resting her hands on his shoulders. He’s wearing too much aftershave, as usual, and dust particles are sticking to his skin, and for some reason she finds it endearing rather than annoying. As she pulls away, her hands making their way back to her sides, he takes hold of one of them.

“What was that about?” Nate smiles, stroking a finger along her palms, still able to feel where the ridges of the gun handle had pressed in.

Nora swallows, then speaks. “I really, really want to blow you right now.”

He takes a moment to think about it.

“But what about other people”, he starts, “The next group aren’t meant to be here for another half hour, but what if they turn up early? What if we get caught?”

Nora laughs, sinking to her knees in front of him, ignoring the fact that the concrete is hell on her knees, and looks up at him. “That didn’t seem to bother you when we did it on the park bench that one time. And besides”, she strokes a hand down his thigh as she speaks “isn’t that part of the fun?”

Nate’s expression softens, and he reaches down a hand to stroke her hair. 

“You”, he says, voice with none of the scolding tone it should have, “are a bad influence.”

“Yeah. But you love it.”


End file.
